One Minute Till Midnight
by Lynn Bartlett
Summary: Yanagi and Kirihara. "Kirihara will do exactly what he wants to, and that’s that."


Title: One Minute Till Midnight  
Author: Lynn Bartlett  
Fandom: Prince of Tennis  
Type: Gen, Light Shonen Ai  
Pairing: Yanagi/Kirihara   
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Konomi Takashi. Not mine.  
  
It's late, too late for most sane people to be awake, but he's one of the few people who will keep me company. Even though Kanagawa is a college town and open all hours, most of my friends have early curfews.  
  
Kirihara, though, seems to have no one who tries to keep track of him, or maybe his mother has long since given up. He's always available whenever my insomnia gets the better of me, so when I call him at 10 p.m. on Saturday, he's quite willing to go out for a late night dinner – as long as I'm the one who's buying.  
  
The diner we wind up in is familiar. The waitress knows us by name, and slips me free coffee and Kirihara gets free fries, which is nice because we order far too much food for our regimen. Of course, I let this slide, even though I know Sanada would be very angry at the both of us. Still, Kirihara is probably the only person I can relax around, because… I haven't quite figured out why, but I can… even though he drives me crazy.  
  
Sometimes when you're dealing with Kirihara Akaya, you can talk yourself blue in the face and be rewarded with a smile and a nod… and nothing changes. Basically, Kirihara will do exactly what he wants to, and that's that. Now is one of those times. He's agreeing with everything I'm saying, his expressive eyes wide and oh-so-innocent, but I know as soon as I let him out of my sight, he's going to do exactly what he wants, and I'll just have to accept that.  
  
"Kirihara, you can't keep antagonizing the first years the way you are," I say, trying to be gentle. I wish I knew how we'd gotten onto the topic. We'd been talking about tennis, of course, and it'd gone into something else, and then Kirihara's abominable treatment of the first years…  
  
I'm one of the only sepia he respects. Yagyuu and Niou and he have developed a peaceful coexistence – they pretend he doesn't exist, and he returns the favor; he and Marui cheerfully squabble like two-year-olds whenever left alone for too long, and Jackal is his unwilling babysitter who he delights in antagonizing. That leaves myself, Yukimura and Sanada, and with Yukimura's illness, Sanada's focus has been shifted away from our genius second year, so….  
  
Well, it's not such a burden. Not when he smiles at me like he is now, blinking a bit owlishly. I doubt he slept enough last night – he stays up way too late, playing those silly video games of his – and I'm not making it better, keeping him out to all hours. "I hear you, Yanagi-senpai," he says.  
  
He doesn't agree with me, which is typical. He never outright lies, but he's a master of splitting hairs. We've raised him well, the baby of the team. Always honest, but devious. A true scion of Rikkai. "Kirihara…" I say warningly.  
  
He leans back in his chair, picking up his glass to take a slurp of the nearly empty milkshake he had conned me into buying for him. "Hmmm?" Again, a blink. Had it been anyone but Kirihara, I might have been tempted to think he was clueless, but it wasn't.  
  
He was similar to Fuji, the tensai of Seigaku sometimes. I couldn't wait for the day when they inevitably met on the courts. It would be a fascinating – not that he didn't fascinate me as is. "Kirihara, you're going to be the next captain of Rikkai. In less than six months, you will be appointed to the position."  
  
"Who says I'm going to be?" Kirihara asks in surprise, and his eyes flutter in surprise.  
  
"Who else?"  
  
He thought on that for a second. It is rather surprising that he hasn't considered the issue before, but he's never been known for his forethought. Still, even he should have been thinking about next year, when he would finally be in charge of the legendary Rikkai.  
  
"Anyone but me."  
  
The answer surprises. For as long as I have known Kirihara, I have always considered him to be one of the best players – and the proudest. For him to deny to honor is not within the predictions I've laid out…  
  
He sees the confusion on my face. "Yanagi-senpai… I'm not a leader," he says softly. "I don't want to be."  
  
I raise my eyebrow, trying to encourage him to explain.  
  
"I can barely keep myself in control. How can I keep a bunch of underclassman in line?"  
  
"Maybe it'll teach you discipline."  
  
"Or the team will fall apart."  
  
He does, indeed, have a point. But he is the best player from below us, and in Rikkai, as in other schools, the best lead. "Consider it a challenge."  
  
"Yanagi-senpai, if I'm put in charge, Rikkai will collapse," he says with conviction.  
  
I see what is happening, and I know what he wants me to do. "Then I guess it will," I tell him cruelly. Kirihara wants me to come up with a way out, with someone else to shoulder the responsibility. He's never player first singles, or assumed a position of leadership, but soon my class will leave, and there will be no safety net.  
  
His look is a classic one of horror. I maintain neutrality as expressions of realization, fear, panic, and finally resignation twist across his face. He knows, better than anyone, what I'm doing. He's a smart kid, smarter than he lets on.  
  
Outside, the clocks begin to chime midnight, and I look at Kirihara. "It's a new day," I tell him, knowing he would understand.  
  
"I bet it's going to rain," he tells me cynically.  
  
"Maybe. But the rain will be good for the flowers." 


End file.
